Page 29 of Shadow Dance

“I’ll go change,” he says, standing.

After breakfast, I pull on sneakers, sweatpants, and a hoodie over my dance clothes. I’m noodling around my phone, checking my socials and messaging Bria, when I notice the time. We’re running behind, and Jaime hasn’t come back yet.

Normally I’d just wait, but I hate being late for class, so I walk over to his place. He answers as soon as I knock, holding up a finger because he’s on the phone. I start to step away, but he gestures for me to hold on.

Leaving the door wide open, he walks back toward the bedroom. I wait awkwardly on the step, not wanting to intrude, but I can see all the way inside. Sunlight fills the space, from the neat living room to the messy bedroom, where he’s sorting clothes on an unmade bed.

It feels intimate, seeing his bedroom, and I turn around, grateful for the crisp air on my face.

I should just go back to the house and give Jaime his privacy. But part of me is drawn to this glimpse of his life, curious about the man I spend so much time with yet barely know. Jaime’s voice drifts out from the bedroom, muffled and indistinct. I wonder if he has a girlfriend.

But then he appears at the door again, off the phone and ready to go. “Sorry about that. Family stuff.”

Ballet class goes well, way better than I expected. It felt so incredibly good not only to be back on the floor, but to be surrounded by my people. No competition either, just good vibes. My muscles feel that delicious ache from a good workout, and my heart feels lighter than it has in months.

When I moved here, the Oakland Ballet was the first place I sought an audition at. While they didn’t need anyone right then, a few members of their corps would be moving overseas soon, and I was welcome to come back in a few months to see if I’d be a good fit. Soon after, I auditioned at Michel’s, and the rest was, unfortunately, history.

“That must’ve been some class,” Jaime says afterward, pulling away from the curb as I fasten my seat belt.

“It was,” I say, tossing my bag into the back seat. “It was fantastic.”

“It must’ve been. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that.”

I sideeye him with a grin. “Because you’ve never seen me dance.”

Jaime’s eyes momentarily flick away from the road to catch my gaze. “Guess this is more of the real Maeve, huh?” A call comes through the car’s Bluetooth, and he switches quickly to his phone, pressing it to his ear.

The warmth in his voice makes my heart flutter. It’s like the more I let Jaime know about me, the realer he getswithme. He doesn’t change; he just seems to be more himself. He’s been such a constant presence these past few months, and emotionally I’ve grown to depend on him more than I expected.

“I think we should get some more cafecito and then go for that hike,” I blurt the second he finishes his brief, cryptic conversation with someone named Wolf.

“Right now?” Jaime looks between me and the street, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.” I tap the screen of my phone. “I looked it up. There’s a little cafe near campus that serves Cuban coffee.”

“What about your other class?” he asks, swinging into a different lane so he can turn at the next intersection. “Your boy Florian’s gonna miss you.”

“Ballet’s enough of a workout, trust me. And don’t worry about Florian.” I laugh, loosening my bun. This isn’t the first time Jaime’s made a snarky comment about my handsome but infinitely cheesy Pilates instructor. “He’s got all the female energy he needs over there.”

After grabbingtwo cups of cafecito, which Jaime complains is shit compared to what he makes at home, we head to Tilden. Parking in the half empty lot, I open the hiking app I downloaded and choose the Seaview Trail, which promises a “short, but enjoyable hike.”

Tilden’s terrain is different, of course, but it reminds me of the trails we used to hike at Edenbrook. Bria really loved those trails. I think about her a lot, wonder what she’s up to these days. I ended up visiting for Lucky’s birthday last spring, a quick, two-day trip where I spent more time on the plane than with Bria, but it was worth it.

Everyone wassosurprised I’d made it. It kind of got on my nerves at first, but then I realized I couldn’t blame them. I’m the one who chosethis distance between us, not just physically but emotionally. I don’t always realize I’m doing it, but it’s easier to be here, on the West Coast, when I’mhere. Thinking about who or what I’m constantly missing sucks.

But also, part of me wants to protect Bria. She’s living this beautiful life, madly in love with my brother while they raise my nephew. They’ve been through enough, so dragging her down with my shit is the last thing I feel like doing. Especially since she’d probably tell Lucky and then he and Tristan would be on the warpath.

Damn, I miss her though. Our text thread has been looking a little anemic lately, and that makes me sad. Pausing on the trail, I snap a few photos of the scenery we’re traversing in all its tree-lush glory and send them to Bria with a text.

Miss you.

It’s still early on the East Coast, but she responds right away.

Aww, reminds me of our hiking adventures at Edenbrook!

And I miss you too

Chat soon?

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